Anchor
by BravoKate
Summary: After the truth about his mission with Jeanne comes to light, Tony finds himself on his boss's porch once again. Sequel to "Apologies."


**Disclaimer: **NCIS does not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **This story can stand on its own, but some of the references will make more sense if you've read Apologies. It takes place after "Bury Your Dead," when the rest of the team finds out the truth about Jeanne.

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**Anchor**

Standing on his boss's doorstep, balancing an uncomfortably hot pizza box on his hand, Tony feels an odd sense of déjà vu. It doesn't seem too long ago, really, that he stood hesitating on this same front porch, trying to talk himself out of going through that door. That night, he had stood there for what felt like hours, debating with himself until the pizza box he carried had begun to burn his hands. In the end, his need to know where he stood with Gibbs had won out over his fear of being rejected.

Tonight, though, Tony doesn't waste time arguing with himself. There is no question in his mind that he needs to talk to his boss, needs once more to try to explain himself. Besides, Tony is sick of being alone. He needs to talk to _someone._ And, though Gibbs is hardly the warm-and-fuzzy type, somehow he has a way of making Tony feel less lost.

So Tony's hesitation tonight doesn't stem from indecision, but from nervousness, plain and simple. Because he doesn't have a clue what he is going to say. True, Gibbs had intimated the last time that he'd forgiven Tony for lying to him. But he hadn't known then that Tony had _still _been – if not lying, then at least not being particularly forthcoming. Because as much as Tony had wanted to tell him the truth about Jeanne that night, he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to do it.

And now Gibbs knows. When did life become so complicated? Tony knows he needs to talk to his boss. He can't live with the awkwardness he knows he will feel if he doesn't. And yet, it has never felt so hard to simply reach out a hand and turn that doorknob. Because there's still a part of him that's worried his boss won't ever be able to forgive him. Not this time. And Tony doesn't know if he can handle having another person he cares about pulling away from him.

But standing there like an idiot on the front porch isn't going to help anything. So, telling himself that the longer he waits, the harder it will be, he takes a deep breath and lets himself in.

Wondering, not for the first time, if his boss _ever _comes out of his basement, Tony immediately heads for the open door. When he reaches the top of the stairs, he finds Gibbs perched on the edge of the framework of his boat, looking expectantly towards the doorway. "Wondered when you'd finally show up, DiNozzo."

Tony shoots his boss a surprised look, then his face relaxes into a rueful smile. He should have known Gibbs was expecting him. His boss always did seem to have him pegged. Tony tries to keep his voice light as he replies, "Well, you know, I had to special-order the pizza. Extra cheese doesn't come standard."

His boss just shakes his head, though there's a flash of a smile on his face. Just for a moment. "Hand it over," he orders, gesturing for Tony to set the pizza down.

Gibbs takes a slice and sets it aside after only a few bites, but Tony goes through three before his boss apparently grows tired of his stalling. "All right, DiNozzo, say what you came here to say."

"What makes you think I came here to say anything? Maybe I just couldn't eat the whole thing by myself."

"Tony." The single word is spoken quietly, but there's a note of warning in it that Tony is all too familiar with. It's the impatient, "stop stalling and _speak" _tone of voice that Gibbs always uses when one of his agents is taking too long to give him a report.

Tony isn't stupid enough to push his boss further, so after only a moment more's hesitation, he says, "Listen, Boss, I – " He sighs, wondering if there's a better way to say it. Coming up with nothing, he continues quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't level with you. I should have."

Gibbs is quiet for so long that Tony wonders if he's ever going to speak. Then he sighs heavily. "We talked about this, Tony. You were following orders. I might not like it, but do you really think I don't understand?"

"I know, Boss. But I…I still should have told you. Maybe if I had… " Tony doesn't finish his sentence, but he knows his boss will understand. It does make him wonder, though. _Would_ things have been different if he'd gone to Gibbs? Well, he'll never know, will he? He made his choice, and now he has to live with it.

Gibbs sighs again. When he speaks, his voice is as close to gentle as Tony has ever heard it. "You got in too deep, didn't you?" he demands quietly.

Tony just nods, closing his eyes briefly in defeat. After a moment, he glances up at his boss again. "Can we skip the lecture? Please? I know I shouldn't have."

Gibbs smiles a bit, albeit wryly. "No, you shouldn't have. Doesn't make much difference, though, sometimes, does it?"

Tony shakes his head, staring at the floor. After a moment, he looks up again and nearly whispers, "I loved her, Boss." His voice increases in volume as he starts to ramble, "I mean, I know that's not supposed to happen. I know that she was a-a freakin' _assignment,_ and I was supposed to keep my distance. And I know it was stupid. I do. But it's not like I _planned _for it to happen! It just…it just did."

Tony trails off, afraid that if he doesn't shut up, he's _really _going to embarrass himself. The last thing he needs is for his voice to break, or something. Not that he's in danger of crying, or anything. Anthony DiNozzo doesn't cry_._ But there's a tightness in his throat that no amount of swallowing can seem to make go away. Because damn it, whether she believes it or not, he _did_ love her. And there haven't been many people that he can say that about.

He knows he hurt her. He doesn't think he will ever be able to forget the look on her face when he told her he truth. Yeah, he hurt her. Badly. And there's not a damned thing he can do about it! At that thought, Tony drops his head into his hand and slumps against the workbench.

Gibbs hasn't moved since Tony's little outburst, leaning against the frame of his boat and watching his agent struggle with his emotions. Now, though, Tony hears footsteps coming toward him. He doesn't look up until he feels a large hand come to rest on the center of his back – not rubbing, not even moving, just a simple, solid presence that somehow makes him feel less alone.

"You're going to get past this, DiNozzo," he hears his boss's voice speaking quietly against his ear. "Might not feel like it right now, but you will."

Tony nods, but it's more to show that he's listening than because he's particularly convinced. Gibbs seems to pick up on that, though, because the next thing Tony knows, his boss is popping him firmly under the chin with a finger. "Hey. Look at me." Gibbs waits for him to obey, then continues, looking at him intently. "You will, Tony. Trust me."

"Yeah?" Tony challenges, almost angry at his boss's quiet confidence. Because he couldn't possibly understand. _Gibbs_ would definitely never be stupid enough to get involved with a target! "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you, DiNozzo."

"You mean your Senior Field Agent wouldn't be stupid enough to get hung up on this? Well, I've got news for you, Boss! It seems I am _exactly_ that stupid!"

Tony is all but screaming into his bosses face, but Gibbs doesn't react beyond a raised eyebrow. When he speaks again, it is just as calmly as before. "No, Tony. I know _you._ You screwed up, I won't deny that. Congratulations. You're human. But I know you, Tony, and I know you'll be able to move past this. Just give it some time."

At that, Tony feels all the anger leave him. He murmurs quietly, "I really did love her, Boss. And it's just…damn it, it's _hard!_"

He feels his boss's hand on his shoulder, tightening in a warm squeeze. "I know, Tony. Trust me, I know."

For a long moment, it's silent in the dim basement. Tony doesn't have any particular desire to talk. Not anymore. Somehow, just sitting there is enough. Gibbs hasn't moved his hand from his shoulder, and its warm weight keeps him grounded. Reminds him that though it might feel like he's alone, that isn't really true, after all. Because Gibbs might not be the sentimental type, but he's still _there_. He always has been.

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**A/N: **Feedback is always welcome. I'd love to hear from you!


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